Chicken Noodle Soup
by Alunabelle Night Shadow
Summary: When Dick comes down with a bad case of the flu after weeks of pushing himself out on the streets (and not getting his vaccination), Wally rushes home to Blüdhaven so he can nurse his poor fiancé back to health. As it turns out, the time together might be just what they need. Established Nightflash. Mostly, if not all, fluff and cuteness. Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

**Chicken Noodle Soup**

 **Summary** : When Dick comes down with a bad case of the flu after weeks of pushing himself out on the streets (and not getting his shot), Wally rushes back home to Blüdhaven so he can nurse his fiancé back to health. As it turns out, the time together might be just what they need. Established Nightflash. Mostly, if not all, fluff and cuteness. May become a multi-chapter fic. Please read and review!

 **Rating** : M

 **Warnings** : Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Anal Intercourse, Anilingus, Angst, Barebacking, Cuddling, Death (Past; Mentioned), Dorty Talk, Drama, Drugs, Fluff, Family, Fevers, Fingering, Flashbacks, Fluff, Friendship, Handjobs, Humour, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Language, Love, Medical Babble, Nightflash (Established), Nightmares, Non-Canon Pairings, OOC, Oral Sex, Pillow Fights, Possible Triggers, Protective!Wally, Romance, Shower!Sex, Sick!Dick, Slash, Spanking, Speedster Powers, Teasing, Tickling, Violence (Light), Wally's Cooking, Whump, etc.

 **Point Of View** : Third person's POV, set in past tense and using story format. Focuses mainly on Dick and Wally as per the usual with my stories—maybe someone else, though that's unlikely given the setting.

 **Disclaimer** : I own nothing, but the plot idea. I am in no way affiliated with DC Comics or its associates and claim no ownership of its characters or their various unending franchises. Young Justice is not mine, nor are Wally and Dick, no matter how much as I wish that they were! This is a not-for-profit piece of fan work meant to entertain and nothing more!

* * *

"Are you _sure_ you have to go?"

Wally paused, midway through packing his suitcase, to look over at his fiancé. The younger man was frowning at him, his expression displeased. Neither of them really liked being apart for long periods of time. It would be sweet if it wasn't so ridiculous. They could take care of themselves just fine, but it didn't stop the two heroes from being extremely protective of one another.

Maybe it was due to the fact that they had been not only an on-again/off-again couple until recently, but had also known each other and been best friends for the last fifteen years. That sort of bond had layers few people were lucky enough to understand. They'd seen each other at their greatest and at their worst, plus everything in between the two.

Expression softening, the redhead crossed the rather tiny bedroom in three quick strides, climbing up beside Dick and instinctively reaching for his hands, "Hey. Are you sure you're okay with this?" He knew how tactile the other was. He didn't really enjoy being alone except on the rare occasions where he wanted his space. "I can always have Uncle Barry and Bart find someone else to help them to take care of the Rogues, you know." He slid closer, wrapping his arms around the acrobat.

The raven-haired man sighed, rolling his eyes as he leaned into the touch, "The Justice League's been swamped lately. Who're you gonna call? Jay? He's ninety three and retired. Go. They need you more than I do at the moment." Dick closed his eyes when he felt Wally kiss the top of his head, already feeling down about his impending absence.

"I'll make it up to you when I get back, I promise." He murmured against the soft black hair of his partner.

"Sure, whatever."

The speedster frowned at the other's rather listless and dismissive response, "I mean it." He took a firm but still gentle hold of the brunette's chin, tilting his head back slightly so he could search his twilight blue eyes. "Dick, is everything alright? You can handle Blüdhaven by yourself for a bit, right?" At the disbelieving look he received, Wally snickered at his own expense, "Sorry. Stupid question. But you _are_ going to be okay on your own, right?"

"I'll be fine, Walls," the former Boy Wonder assured him, snuggling back down into his embrace. "Maybe I'll go crash at the Manor for a bit, see how the family's been getting along since Christmas..." He trailed off, feeling warm breath on his neck as the older man began to kiss along the exposed column of his throat.

The redhead grinned slightly, "Damian will like that." He commented, distractedly, nibbling gently at the soft beige skin, and Dick was slowly melting in his arms due to his actions. "You know, I still have some time before I'm supposed to be in Central City." He murmured huskily in his fiancé's ear.

"Is that so?" Dick's reply came in a breathless voice as he craned his head back to give the Metahuman more room to work. "Well, then you'd... _ahh_...better take advantage of it while you still can..." He let that hang in the air for a moment, and soon found himself being pulled backwards into Wally's lap, pale hands wandering his body with a practiced skill. He couldn't help but moan as the redhead sucked hard at his collarbone, ensuring that a lasting mark would be left behind for days to come.

As Wally lavished attention on the lightly tanned neck being presented to him, his right hand was ever so slowly moving up the younger man's torso, sliding beneath the white tank top that hugged his lover's muscular body.

"No teasing me," the brunette growled out as a thumb brushed against one of his nipples, causing him to arch his back involuntarily. A perpetually warm hand hovered over his crotch and he frowned, lifting his hips and scowling when the hand moved away, "Wally, I mean it! Just—"

He gave a startled yelp when the Metahuman suddenly turned and threw him down onto the bed, but he groaned when Wally's body quickly covered his own, "Just _what?_ " The redhead questioned in a heated voice, kissing him soundly for a moment, before pulling back, grinning at him confidently. "Just fuck you? Suck you off? Leave you here to masturbate?" He slipped a hand between Dick's slightly parted legs, shamelessly fondling him while the younger of the two gasped and squirmed in response. "You'll have to be more specific..."

"B–Bastard!" The acrobat managed, letting his head fall back against the bed sheets as Wally curled a finger around the waistband of his sweatpants, peeling the wool down and feeling a lusty smirk cross his face as Dick's body was exposed to him, already tense with anticipation. He licked the palm of his hand and didn't dawdle, reaching down to curl his hand around the other's throbbing cock, savouring the soft but audible whine he gave as a result.

The speedster subtly checked the time.

Oh yeah, he could do this and still make it, no problem, which was good because he didn't know how long he'd be gone for, not that it mattered, because any time away from Dick was too much, especially when he was looking like _this_ —flushed and wanting and desperate. God, he was so beautiful.

He leaned forward and began plastering the younger man's face and neck with kisses, trailing down his throat and to his chest. A quiver ran through the ebony's body when Wally's wet tongue flickered across his nipples, all while the elder hero's vibrating hand continued swiping up and down, moving around in long twisting pulls that had Dick panting in _seconds_.

"Nnnngh! Oh f–fuck! Wally, _please!_ " He screwed his eyes shut and gave a broken whimper when the redhead fisted his erection, rubbing his thumb in slow circles over the tip, his hips bucked forward, shivers now constantly running through him. He was already so _close_.

Seeming to sense this, the Metahuman manoeuvred his now naked body over Dick's (when the hell had he even taken his clothes off?), hand still pumping between them, and kissed his lover passionately, nibbling and licking at his lower lip, and feeling the brunette's shaking intensify suddenly. "C'mon, Baby," he whispered to him, tightening his grip and feeling the younger hero squirm furiously beneath him when he twisted his wrist on the up-stroke, "You can let go. I've got you." He encouraged his partner.

The raven-haired man's body jerked forward practically against his will, a choked cry tearing from the back of his throat as that familiar white hot pleasure temporarily blinded him, and then he suddenly collapsed against the bed, shuddering and trying to catch his breath with little success.

When he finally opened his eyes again, he noticed Wally watching him intently, smirking, "S–Shut up." He said self-consciously before the redhead could make another comment about how "cute" he looked, which he'd heard from him plenty of times before. He was _not_ cute.

The smirk widened into a grin, and the speedster told him, "I didn't even say anything."

"No, but you were about to." Dick stretched out his body and glanced at the clock, but couldn't make it out from his current position. "When are you supposed to be at Central again?" He asked, unable to help looking his fiancé up and down. Honestly, being that attractive should've been _illegal_.

"About half an hour... Why?"

The former circus brat grinned, and before Wally could figure out why, the raven was reversing their positions so he was straddling the older boy's legs, cackling gleefully at his slightly shocked expression. "Because I'm not done with you yet." He reached for their nightstand, fumbling for a bit before withdrawing a bottle of Liquid Silk.

Wally's expression cleared, and he reached for it, but Dick slapped his hands away. "You take too long," he huffed out as he poured a generous amount of lube into his hand and wrapped it around the other's length. He was already hard and aching all over again, and the last thing he wanted was the Metahuman wasting all their time because he was overly cautious about prepping.

Screw using fingers first, they'd been at this long enough it didn't even hurt anymore.

It was obvious that the redhead wanted to protest, but the words became stuck when he felt the smaller but still strong, callused hand moving around him. The acrobat positioned himself above Wally seconds later, his features sharper and more mature than the first time they did this—ten years ago almost—but still just as flushed. He took a deep breath, and then slammed himself down on the speedster's cock.

A strangled scream pierced the room.

Green eyes shot open wide at the sound and hands flashed up to grip Dick's arms, "Are you okay?" He asked gently, worriedly. The younger man grimaced and nodded shakily, his body throbbing with pain. He was sore and would _definitely_ regret his impatience later, but despite it all the familiar heated sensations curling just behind his navel remained.

Wally was massaging his shoulders, and it helped him relax, which lessened the discomfort considerably. "I think I'm good..." He murmured, and the redhead nodded as he reached up and grasped the black-haired boy's hips tightly while Dick balanced himself by pressing his palms against the Meta's chest. He slowly lifted himself with the help of his lover, and the groans of both men reverberated through the bedroom as he plunged himself back down on the other's length, pleasure spiking up his spine as it stabbed into the depths of his body.

Their rhythm started out more or less as a slow rocking with the occasional thrust mixed in, tongues tangling and teeth clacking as they moaned into each other's mouths, their hands groping clumsily at whatever they could reach. It seemed like no matter how many times they did this, they could never get enough. But then again, they were two hot, horny guys in their twenties who happened to adore each other, they were _allowed_ to be desperate for sex.

Suddenly, Wally started buzzing—something that usually happened sooner or later when they were intimate, often times unintentionally. The vibrations ran up into the younger vigilante's oversensitive body and he swore filthily as his arms gave out, whimpering, "Wa– _hnnngh_ –Wally!"

As soon as the speedster flipped them over and he was on his back, Dick wrapped his legs around his lover's waist, ankles digging into his flesh hard enough to leave a bruise that wouldn't last longer than a few minutes, and pretty soon they were both moaning like professionals.

"H–Harder!" The brunette pleaded, arching sharply and nearly choking when the redhead's cock seared a path across his prostate. He gripped Wally's shoulders, making him hiss as sharp nails scraped his skin. "Oh _God!_ Yes! Right there!" He writhed, feeling the coil in his stomach tightening up like a snake poised to strike.

" _Jesus_ ," Wally was kissing every part of his fiancé that he could access, his thrusts becoming quick, sharp jerks as he crushed their mouths together roughly. He was nearly there. "Come with me, Dick," he ordered breathlessly as one hand shot down to pump the younger man's length.

It didn't take long before the former Boy Wonder was spasming beneath his partner, throwing his head back as he came with a hoarse scream, vaguely aware of the Metahuman cursing as his body clenched all around him. There were a few more hard thrusts from his lover and then Dick shivered as a wet heat flooded through him.

He fell back against the mattress, eyes fluttering shut tiredly.

The spent young man barely felt Wally ease out gently. He heard him whisper loving comments as he cleaned him up—or maybe he only thought he did. It was all routine by that point. All he knew was that the bubbly afterglow of sex had a soothing effect on him. He was definitely out by the time a blanket was pulled up over his shoulders and a kiss pressed to the tip of his nose though.

Despite him being fast asleep, Wally hoped that the words still somehow managed to reach his ears.

 _I love you, Baby, take good care of yourself._

* * *

Nightwing was exhausted.

If it hadn't been for the fact that the Nocturnal Avenger couldn't remember the last time that he'd actually slept instead of simply taking short power naps between patrols, studying for his college classes, looking into joining the police academy and helping his brothers out occasionally, maybe he wouldn't have been all but dead on his feet by the time he finally got back home.

He wanted to consider it a relatively successful evening, except that he was honestly having trouble keeping his eyes open at the moment, let alone thinking back on and critiquing his performance on the street. The young man's entire body ached terribly, his throat was raw from coughing and it hurt so bad when he swallowed that if he didn't know better, the brunette would swear the last thing he ate were steel-edged razor blades. He felt like he was on the verge of passing out, yet he was somehow still able to find his way back home without losing consciousness, only to nearly collapse on the fire escape outside his window.

 _Maybe I should have stayed home tonight..._

Strong hands suddenly catching him by the shoulders at the last second were the only thing that kept him from doing a face plant into the apartment. "Holy shit..." A familiar voice muttered (though he couldn't place it in his current state), and suddenly his legs were being swept out from underneath him. The movement made his stomach roll sickeningly, but he managed to avoid throwing up the meager contents of it out of sheer willpower alone.

The conscious part of his mind told the raven-haired man that he should be concerned, while the rest of it was too sleep deprived and sore-feeling to care what was happening. He just needed a few minutes... then he'd deal with whatever the hell was going on right now.

Something soft was pressed against his back—a bed, most likely, and Nightwing felt a light tugging on the mask covering his eyes, which set off enough alarm bells for him to try to push them away. No one could see his face while he was costumed... Bruce would bust a blood vessel if he ever let that happen. Not to mention it would mean risking the identities and safety of everyone that he cared about.

"Dick, relax!"

He froze at the use of his real name, and the acrobat forced his eyes open despite the pounding headache that protested him moving even a muscle, and all he saw was a reddish-orange blur and a flash of pale skin before his eyelids shut against his wishes, unable to fight the fatigue that had been plaguing him for several days now.

But he'd seen enough to know who it was. "W...Wally?"

A warm knuckle brushed over his cheekbone, pushing sweat-dampened hair out of his face, and a worried but soothing voice replied, "Yeah, Babe, it's just me. Go to sleep, alright? I'll take care of you." _You big damn idiot,_ he added to himself silently, _why didn't you call and tell me that you weren't feeling well? Stupid stubborn Bat._

Wally. Fiancé. Safe.

 _...Sleep..._

"Nnnn... 'm head hurts." He mumbled his complaint, and the words sounded different even to him. Sluggish. Deft fingers undid the concealed zipper of his uniform, and he felt Wally pulling the suit off of him, making him release a long sigh of relief as the clingy spandex and Nomex was removed from his fevered body.

"The headache will go away when you let yourself get some rest, Dickie," He heard the redhead say, a light blanket being draped over him even as he felt the ceiling fan flicker on, keeping him from overheating. "Here, drink this." Wally's hand slipped beneath his head, tilting it forward slightly, and the rim of a water bottle pressed against his lips.

Parched, Dick greedily drank from it, and drank and drank, until there wasn't a single drop left, and only then did he turn his head, leaning into Wally's touch with a grateful sigh, "...Missed you..." Of course he did, who else would put up with his ridiculous refusal to take the night off, even when he was so sick he felt like a bag of dirty needles that just wanted to crawl into a hole and be left to die?

The speedster had been in Central City for the last couple of weeks, helping out Flash and Kid Flash (formerly known as Impulse) with the Rogues, after they'd been wreaking a particular amount of havoc across Central and Keystone. He understood the elder having an obligation to his family, but he did wish he wasn't gone for such a long period of time.

Chuckling sounded above him, and a pair of soft, warm lips touched his with the gentlest of pressures, pulling away after a few short moments, "I missed you too, now go to bed, Dickie, it's really early in the morning. I'll be here when you wake up, I promise. Love you."

He muttered something that he hoped was a return of that affectionate sentiment, and before he knew it, he was being swept away in the familiar, comforting darkness of sleep...

* * *

Despite knowing it wasn't his fault, Wally still felt the guilt eating him up inside as he watched Dick toss and turn in their shared bed, giving dry, pained coughs and shivering even though he was flushed red with his slightly heightened temperature. It was stupid, because his fiancé was twenty-three years old and perfectly capable of taking care of himself.

At least he _should_ have been.

The redhead often forgot that he had been raised by the Batman, who never took a sick day in his life and thought giving his protégés extra time to train was good encouragement if they failed a fitness test. He doubt the guy even knew what bed rest _was_. But that was probably because the germs were too afraid to try attacking him. Humour aside, he was upset because he should have figured out from how off Dick had sounded on the phone calls that the younger man wasn't feeling well.

Normally, if something happened to Nightwing, Strike could handle patrolling Blüdhaven alone for a few days, and vice versa. But this month the Strike had been helping his uncle and second cousin out with their enemies. By the time he'd heard about the sudden Influenza epidemic infecting the New York Metropolitan Area, it was too late. Wally wished he could blame those antivaxxer morons this time, but truth be told, he knew Dick had a habit of avoiding his vaccinations.

It wasn't because he _wanted_ to, necessarily, but because he was nervous about it. Up until the age of nine he hadn't really had access to proper medical care unless there was an emergency. The Flying Graysons hadn't been able to afford it. Bruce's trip with the young orphan to get his first ever vaccine (Hepatitis A) had led to a serious allergic reaction that resulted in him being hospitalized. Not only that, but the acrobat had plenty of other sensitivities as well; pollen, dust, certain antibiotics and foods, etc.

A somewhat traumatic experience involving something that most people were used to by his age meant he'd never quite gotten over his fear of needles, no matter how many times he required stitches due to his career and the like.

Tough break.

As Wally had been there with him at the last several appointments to get his annual flu shot, it seemed like with him gone the brunette had either forgotten or simply opted not to go altogether. Fortunately for the Metahuman he was already safe, for his rapid healing made it impossible for drugs and diseases to penetrate his peak immune system. He hadn't needed a vaccination since he was ten years old. Unfortunately for Dick, however, it seemed like he was one of the few hundred thousand people to catch the illness. Considering he was in the filthiest gutters of the city most nights, that wasn't a huge shocker.

What was really upsetting was that the other crime fighter hadn't informed the speedster about how terrible he was feeling even once during their many phone calls and texts in the last few weeks. It was reckless of him to be put on the streets in his condition, and he fully intended to tell Dick that...

...after he got better.

The last thing anyone wanted when they were feeling like shit was a lecture from their significant other. Right now, what the former Boy Wonder needed was someone to take care of him until he was back to his usual cheerful, energetic self. Since everyone else was either sick or trying to avoid getting sick, who was better to take care of him than his permanently immunized fiancé?

Deciding he would do whatever was necessary to get him healthy again, Wally prepared himself for what would undoubtedly be a week or more of hellish frustration, worry and sleeplessness, because there was one thing he knew for sure: Dick Grayson was a big _baby_ when it came to being sick.

Honestly, the only person he could think of who would probably be a worse patient to have would be his partner's adoptive father. What was it about vigilantism that made them all so completely stubborn about their own health?

Whatever.

Knowing that the raven-haired male wasn't liable to stay asleep for long despite his obvious exhaustion, the Metahuman headed to the kitchen to make him something that he'd be able to keep down. Luckily he knew the exact recipe for Dick's favorite get-well-soon meal: hot, homemade chicken noodle soup. Sure, it couldn't speed up his recovery at all, but it _would_ soothe a sore throat and was light on the stomach.

 _Thank you Alfred Pennyworth._

* * *

"You're overreacting! It's just a cold, I'm _fine!_ "

Wally could slowly feel his headache develop into what he could only imagine would soon become a cerebral aneurysm. He was _this close_ to snapping. The great thing about being engaged was that you could absolutely worship someone with your whole heart and still have the occasional urge to strangle them to within an inch of their life just so they'll stop being so fucking _stupid_.

He took a slow, unnecessarily deep breath to calm himself, and focused on Dick's face; taking in the flushed yet chalky pallor, the red-rimmed eyes highlighted by dark purple shadows beneath them, and listened to the painfully laboured inhales and exhales as he struggled to properly draw in air despite the scratchy throat and congested nasal passage...

It helped to strengthen his resolve.

Finally, he put on the most intimidating expression he could, mildly surprised when the acrobat flinched slightly, and held up the thermometer he'd purchased earlier that day, "Richard John Grayson, I swear to _God_ , either you open your mouth _right now_ and let me check your temperature or I will _bend you over_ and check it the _other_ way. With or without your consent."

The Metahuman's fiancé lost what little color he had left when he heard that, his gaze shocked but scrutinizing, as if trying to decide whether Wally meant it or not. Apparently the threat worked though, because the moment he inched closer, Dick scrambled back quickly and held his hands up in surrender, "Okay, alright! I'll let you check! Jeez!"

A sweet smile crossed the redhead's face as he handed over the thermometer, watching the young man unhappily stick it under his tongue, folding his arms across his chest and glaring at the bedspread like a petulant child who'd just been thoroughly scolded by their mother.

It beeped a few moments later, and Wally took it from the brunette before he could attempt to cover up the results, "102.3," he read with a frown, "You're staying in bed. No leaving the apartment, and _no patrolling_."

Dick's eyes widened, and— _really?_ Did the acrobat actually expect that he'd be fine with him going out and fighting psychos, in the middle of February no less, while suffering from an illness that killed _sixty-three million_ _people_ worldwide in the last three hundred years alone? _No_. No way in hell.

"I'm a grown man, Wally, you can't _ground_ me," the brunette protested, wincing at the sound of his own voice and trying to clear his throat, only to dissolve into another fit of painful, hacking coughs that left him breathless, tears running down his face from the strain.

Almost instantly, the speedster's ire with the younger male vanished and he was by his lover's side, rubbing his back soothingly as he tried to control the wheezing and handing Dick a fresh bottle of water afterwards. He might have been annoyed with his fiancé's stubborn attitude, but he could tell he was feeling miserable at the moment, and reminded himself to be a little bit more understanding.

Just because Wally didn't get sick anymore, that didn't mean he couldn't sympathize with Dick. After all, he had plenty of childhood memories of being ill that stuck out, and they all sucked on so many levels. Instead of yelling at him for being overly argumentative about the situation, the redhead slid into the bed next to Dick and pulled his blankets off. Upon receiving a questioning look from him, Wally held his arms out for him, smiling gently "You don't need those, you've got me."

The boy looked completely bewildered for a moment, and then his expression crumpled and he lunged forward into the speedster's waiting embrace, burying his face against his chest. "I'm sorry," came his muffled voice, and Wally squeezed him tighter, kissing the top of his head.

"You have nothing to he sorry for." He assured his other half as they curled up in bed together. "I'm here for you, and I'm going to make sure you're okay, I promise. You don't need to act tough for me, Rob. You're only human, you're allowed to take a few days off when you're sick. Blüdhaven will survive without us until you're better." He ran his fingers through the other's silken black hair.

Dick pulled slightly away to look at him, his expression was more than a bit sheepish; whether it was due to his earlier childish behaviour or the sudden need for affection, the redhead wasn't sure. "You don't take sick days." He pointed out despite knowing there was a perfectly valid reason for that. "Neither does Bruce."

He smiled playfully, "I said only _humans_ count, vampires don't get the Flu."

The acrobat rolled his eyes and snuggled up close to Wally once more, seeming far more relaxed than he had been before, with his head nestled against the other's chest, finding his personal space heater to be just warm enough not to overheat him. "Hilarious. But I think he's heard that joke before."

 _Damn it_. "Does that mean I can't call him Count Dracula?" He asked, pretending to pout with disappointment. Ever since the two had announced their engagement to the Wayne Family over a year ago, ol' Bats had been giving him a harder time than when they'd just been dating, and he enjoyed finding little ways to rile up the Dark Knight in return. "I mean, come on, the dude keeps pet bats in his basement and let's his kids run around in tight spandex and beat down crooks. Clearly some of his screws have become a bit loose over the years."

"Let me know if you ever decide to say that to his face, so I can, y'know... _Run_."

Wally laughed out loud at that, squeezing the boy more tightly to him, "Will do." He continued holding his fiancé close, gently stroking his hair, and buzzing very lightly. The vibrations had the desired effect, because Dick had stopped shivering altogether and seemed rather cozy cuddled up to him, his head tilted to the side as he drifted in and out of sleep.

"Rest," the redhead instructed softly. "You need to regain your strength."

Dick gave a tired "M'kay" as his eyelids fluttered shut, and just when the other man thought he was out for the night, he murmured under his breath, "Wally?" When the brunette didn't say anything else for a bit, he almost shrugged it off as being him just speaking in his sleep, until... "You still wanna have kids someday, right?"

The speedster blinked down at his barely conscious partner, wondering where that had come from. He was quite sure the two of them had never had that discussion before, so maybe it was all fever induced, but he had always hoped to have a family—whether the kid was adopted or born through a surrogate. He actually loved the idea. Playing along, he replied, "Sure I do, Babe. Why do you ask?"

His fiancé gave a tired shrug, "Just thinkin' about what we'd name her, that's all..."

 _Uhh... her?_ So their unborn hypothetical future child was going to be a daughter? For some reason, he liked that even more than the thought of just having kids in general. "Oh? I'm guessing you have some ideas on that subject, then?"

"Mmm-hmm..." Dick yawned and cuddled closer to him, eyes still shut. "We should call her... Marlea." He pronounced it like _Mar-lee-ah_ , and before the redhead could question his rather unusual choice, he continued, "Course... that would just be a _nickname_. Her real full name would be—" he yawned, "—Martha Leanne West-Grayson. After Bruce's mom and your sister. Get it? M-A-R from Martha and L-E-A from Leanne. Plus both of our mothers are named Mary... It fits, dont'cha think?"

Wally, who had gone very tense at the mention of his long deceased baby sister, found himself smiling down at the barely-conscious younger man. "I like it," he murmured, truthfully, before closing his eyes in thought. "But what about something like... Marley for a nickname? With a Y? Or even...Marla? It's short and sweet, just like you." He teased.

No response.

He opened his eyes and found the ebony now snoring softly into his chest, and chuckled fondly.

Ah well, they had plenty of time to discuss names in the future. Right now he was just glad that Dick was doing relatively okay, and that he was home to take care of him. Snuggling down further into the bed sheets, it wasn't long before Wally found himself drifting off as well.

* * *

 **Well, that was chapter one! I'm not sure whether this should be a one-shot or not. It feels kind of complete but at the same time there's quite a few more things I want to do with it. I think sick-fics are adorable, especially with Dick and Wally involved.** **If you enjoyed this story, please be sure to review it so I know and follow it to be told whenever it gets updated! Also, don't be afraid to tell me if you have an idea you'd like to see me include in it!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chicken Noodle Soup**

 **Summary** : When Dick comes down with a bad case of the flu after weeks of pushing himself out on the streets (and not getting his shot), Wally rushes back home to Blüdhaven so he can nurse his fiancé back to health. As it turns out, the time together might be just what they need. Established Nightflash. Mostly, if not all, fluff and cuteness. May become a multi-chapter fic. Please read and review!

 **Rating** : M

 **Point Of View** : Third person's POV, set in past tense and using story format. Focuses mainly on Dick and Wally as per the usual with my stories—maybe someone else, though that's unlikely given the setting.

 **Disclaimer** : I own nothing, but the plot idea. I am in no way affiliated with DC Comics or its associates and claim no ownership of its characters or their various unending franchises. Young Justice is not mine, nor are Wally and Dick, no matter how much as I wish that they were! This is a not-for-profit piece of fan work meant to entertain and nothing more!

* * *

A strange sound awoke Wally in the middle of the night.

Despite having incredibly quick perceptions and reflexes, it took an embarrassingly long time for the speedster to realize that, A) Dick was no longer next to him in bed, and B) that the weird noise that had jolted him back into consciousness was coming from the bathroom. It almost sounded like... _gagging?_

"Fuck!" The moment that it registered, the redhead was leaping off of the bed and zipping into the adjoining bathroom, where he found his fiancé kneeling over the toilet bowl, dry heaving and sobbing, tears running down his face while he clutched his middle section as though in pain. He was struggling to breathe through his retching and if the smell was any indication, he'd been in there a while making himself even sicker due to being so worked up.

Wally immediately dropped down beside the raven, rubbing a hand over his back calmingly and encouragingly despite Dick clearly having emptied his stomach long ago. He did his best to soothe the raven-haired young man, and when the choking finally died down a few minutes later, he reached over and flushed the toilet before helping him stand up.

"I've got you, Baby, it's okay." He murmured, supporting the young man as he rinsed his mouth out, leading him back to bed while listening to him rattle off apologies. " _Dick_ ," he spoke sharply enough that those red-rimmed blue eyes snapped up to meet soft green ones. "Stop telling me you're sorry, please. You can't control this and I'm not mad at you. Alright?" The brunette refused to respond, and he frowned, sitting down on the bed also.

The redhead put a hand on his fiancé's shoulder, "Dick?"

Once again, the younger man looked at him slowly, as if forced, like the sound of his name being spoken by Wally was impossible to ignore. "W–Why aren't you _upset?_ I brought this on myself and...and now you have to take care of me. You _should_ be angry." He hiccuped, shoulders trembling.

Damn it.

Wally was so used to Dick being extroverted about everything that he forgot about his tendency to bottle up the things that were really upsetting him. Unfortunately, unlike Bruce, his bottle seemed to have a limit to how much it could hold before bursting. His partner felt things in spades; so much stronger than most people. That included hurt, guilt, and insecurity...

"No." When Dick looked at him in confusion, he scooted closer on the bed and wrapped his arms around the acrobat, pulling him tightly against his body. "I don't _have_ to take care of you, Babe. I _want_ to. We're _engaged_ , and I bought these rings knowing it meant I would always be here for you." He kissed the tip of his nose sweetly, "This isn't me feeling obligated. We both know you're a pain in the ass to deal with on the best of days, but I love you and wouldn't have it any other way. Understand?"

He felt the younger boy nod into his chest, noticeably relaxing, and smiled. "Good. Are you still tired?" The brunette hesitated, before nodding again, and the speedster pulled him up further on the bed so they were laying down, Dick still in his arms. He was still fevered, so they left the blankets off. "Try going back to sleep for awhile. If your stomach still hurts tomorrow I'll run out and pick up something for it at the pharmacy."

Dick sighed softly under his breath when warm, lightly buzzing hands slid up under his t-shirt and began massaging over his stomach, which actually helped quite a bit. Pretty soon he found himself being pulled back to sleep by the pleasant and soothing actions.

* * *

Whoever first said that getting sick was great had to have been smoking something really good, because Dick felt like he was very slowly going out of his mind the longer he laid in bed and did nothing. He was usually a very energetic person, and while the flu was zapping some of it out of him, he couldn't go on like this for much longer. He was agitated and restless in addition to feeling just plain shitty. Eventually he was going to snap.

He had spent the last two days screwing around on the web and browsing Netflix, plus he'd already finished his homework for the entire month, so really—all he had left to do was just curl up in a ball and wallow in his misery and self-pity.

Apparently Wally was picking up on his dejected mood, because when he came to grab the dirty dishes from breakfast (banana oatmeal), he frowned and reached out to feel his forehead, "What's wrong? Is your fever getting worse?" He asked, and the younger man wanted to squirm at the sympathy filling those deep green eyes. Not that he didn't appreciate it, but it still made him uncomfortable...

"I'm fine..." he sighed, rolling over onto his back and staring at the ceiling unhappily, "Just bored. Being sick _sucks_."

The Metahuman responded by laying down beside him and resting his head against the ebony's shoulder, "Aww, poor Dickie... is there anything I can do to make you feel better?" He offered, running his fingers through the younger man's silky black hair. "We could go to the living room, play some video games? I could give you a massage?"

Wally deflated slightly when his fiancé merely shook his head, burying his face in the pillow, adding a muffled, "No thank you." He got the feeling the acrobat wanted to be alone now, so he leaned over and kissed his cheek, "Okay—I'm gonna go hop in the shower then. Give a shout out if you need anything."

"Kay..." The flu-ridden man muttered, and closed his eyes to see if he could sleep his blues away, when the redhead's words registered in his mind. He turned over in bed so quickly he was surprised he didn't make himself nauseous, and caught a glimpse of the speedster's naked backside just before the bathroom door swung shut. His clothes were in a pile on the floor in the corner of the room, haphazardly tossed there after the man undressed at super speed.

Suddenly, the other hero knew exactly what it was that he needed. Something he hadn't had in nearly a month now. "Hold on a minute Wally, I think I'll join you!"

* * *

"You're such a _dirty boy!_ "

Dick gasped sharply as he was roughly shoved up against the cold, tiled wall of the bathroom, hot water splashing over his shoulders and rolling down his back. He moaned audibly when his fiancé grinded their cocks together, feeling his body ache and tingle with the desire that was already beginning to make his blood boil.

He squirmed as wet, soapy hands ran over his nude form, spreading his legs a little when a slick finger prodded his entrance, "C–Clean me up then," he whimpered softly when Wally slowly pushed his index finger inside, passed the first ring of muscle, right up to the knuckle. Steam was quickly fogging up the room, the sound of the water spraying drowned out almost everything else.

Those lips covered his own, passionate and forceful and demanding. Amazing. It felt like fire going down his throat—way better than the painful burn he'd been experiencing lately. Knowing that his breathing capacity wasn't doing so great these days, the redhead quickly broke off and began kissing and nibbling at his neck, sucking at the collarbone hard enough to bruise.

All of the different sensations were making Dick feel lightheaded and weak at the knees, especially when his lover added a second finger, and then a third, moving them around quickly and efficiently while still taking the time to torture him in the best way possible, twisting and curling them up suddenly to stroke teasingly across his sweet spot.

" _Oh!_ W–Wally," the brunette choked out in a broken, pleading voice, lifting himself up so he was standing on his tiptoes as the Metahuman pressed his digits even _deeper_ and began _vibrating_ them, using them to stretch him open wider. " _Ahhhhh..._ God, more... _Please..._ " He moaned desperately, attempting to grind down against the fingers for more stimulation to his prostate, but they pulled out in response, causing him to whine pathetically.

Pulling his head back, Wally stared at him with those deep green eyes glittering darkly in lust, making a thrill of excitement run through his aching body.

"Turn around," he panted breathlessly, reaching out to push away a strand of wet ebony hair that was hanging in his face, " _Now_."

Dick nearly shivered at the commanding voice that he used, shakily doing as he was ordered, bracing his palms and forearms flat against the slippery tiled wall. His insides were throbbing with need; the need to have something thicker and much more satisfying than fingers filling him up until he burst. His hand twitched with the urge to touch himself, but he refrained.

Judging from his behaviour so far, the lack of sex had been affecting the redhead as well. When that happened, Wally tended to get grabby and possessive. Which he loved, truth be told. He could think of only two other things that rivalled great sex: Alfred's baking (don't judge him unless you've tried it), and the gratitude and relief in someone's eyes when Nightwing helped them in some way or another.

"So beautiful to me," he heard the husky whisper come from behind him, and then Wally's body was against his, lips on the back of his neck. He felt the Metahuman position himself, and by this point they were both trembling in anticipation. "Always. You're fucking _perfect_ , you know that?"

The compliments being panted into his ear were kind of nice, but still nothing compared to how he felt when the older male bucked his hips forward, burying himself up to the hilt with one quick _push_. He gave a full-bodied shudder, leaning his forehead against the cool, wet wall, suddenly finding it a lot easier to breathe despite his racing heart. Probably had something to do with the steam he'd been inhaling.

Wally's hand was massaging his right shoulder, and he eventually let out a soft sigh, smiling and giving a nonverbal cue for him to go ahead by shifting his hips slightly, biting his lower lip to stifle a cry as he felt the speedster's cock move in tandem with him. He heard the redhead hiss quietly before moving to grip his waist, then he took a deep breath, slowly withdrawing until just the tip was inside, and thrusting forward again, _hard_.

"Nnnnnnghhh!"

Oh fuck, it felt _good_.

Dick's jaw had gone slack as he pressed himself further up against the wall, hands flattened to the tiles but still not having anything to grip on to. He was now quivering lightly, blue eyes glazed with want. He snapped out of it when the elder of the two rocked his hips ever so smoothly, likely as payback for him doing the same thing moments ago, and he croaked out hoarsely, "M–Move...!"

The older male had one arm braced against the wall, right above Dick's head, and he grinned down at the dark-haired beauty—despite the fact that he couldn't actually see his face at the moment—even as the tight heat surrounding him threatened his self control. "Are you sure, Baby?"

He scowled, "Just fucking mov— _Ahhhh!_ " He nearly shrieked in pleasure when Wally suddenly pulled out and then slammed back into him before taking up a rough pace. Curling his hands into fists, Dick rocked back into his movements, gasping and moaning at the deep strokes of the redhead's cock as he pumped himself in and out of the acrobat. "F–Faster, Wally!"

 _Smack!_

The brunette cried out in shock at the hard swat that landed on his ass suddenly. It stung like hell, but fuck if it didn't make him even _harder_. Still, it confirmed his earlier assessment about being separated making them both equally horny; Wally didn't really spank him all that much.

Another hit send a sharp burst of _something_ up his spine, and he let out what sounded like a mix between a mewl and a sob, especially when teeth tugged at his earlobe, "You _don't_ get to tell me what to do!" Wally growled at him, a vibration running through their bodies as he increased the pace of his rhythm, delivering another hot, stinging slap to his bottom.

 _Shit, shit, shit!_

It felt incredible, especially with the occasional sharp bursts of pain and Dick wasn't sure how much longer he could last if the Metahuman kept it up. Already he could feel a familiar tightening in his belly, his hands were now all but clawing at the tiles as he writhed against them, consumed by lust, and feeling a whimper catch in the back of his throat when his aching member rubbed torturously up against the shower wall.

The redhead tightened his grip on his hips and sped up even more, his whole body now buzzing, making the younger boy shiver continuously, nearly screaming when his prostate was hit directly.

Oh God, he couldn't _take it_ anymore!

" _Wally_ ," he all but begged his fiancé's name, gasping for air as his climax began rapidly approaching. But it still wasn't _fast enough_. "P–Please! I...I–I _can't..._ I need—" he cut himself off with a broken moan as a familiar warm, firm hand curled around his straining erection, stroking its thumb slowly over the tip, making him squirm desperately.

A wet tongue licked at the trail of water running down the curve of his throat, "Need _what?_ " The older male questioned, his voice a sultry purr that went straight to his cock, which he continued to slowly pump. "You need to come? Is that what you were going to say, Baby?" He gave a whimpered groan and nodded frantically.

The redhead squeezed his member and he nearly orgasmed from that alone. "I need you to say it out loud, Love, or else it doesn't count." Wally slowed his movements down, no longer thrusting, but instead settling for short, dirty grinding against Dick's sweet spot, smirking as the raven quickly started unravelling in front of him. "Beg like you really want it, _Richard,_ and don't you dare come until I say so. Now do it!"

Dick squeezed his eyes shut, the sound of his full first name spoken like that breaking what little control over himself he had left. "Oh! _Oh God!_ Wally! Please let me c— _ahhh_ —come! I can't hold on much longer!" Suddenly, he was begging, crying, feeling so close to the edge that he thought he was going to go _insane_. His speech quickly devolved into incoherency. _"Hnnnngh! Ahhhh...haaaa... Nnnnghhh..."_

By now his hips were jerking forward of their own accord, his entire body shaking as he fought back against the release he so desperately wanted, whining and sobbing in need as Wally fondled him.

Just when he thought he was going to shatter completely, he heard his lover say the most beautiful words he'd ever heard, "Okay, you can let go now, Baby. I've got you." He started vibrating his hand as he pumped relentlessly at the brunette's cock, and that was more than enough to bring him over the edge. Dick gave a strangled wail as he fell to pieces in his lover's arms, white hot pleasure erupting within him, trembling violently in the aftermath.

Wally's arms curled around his body, supporting him as he gave a few more jerky thrusts into the acrobat, kissing the back of his neck and drawing gasps from him as he moved due to being highly sensitive, before he came hard inside of him with a muffled groan of pleasure. Afterwards, the speedster carefully withdrew from the quivering younger man, who was now leaning back against him, trying to regain control of his breathing. He reached for their shampoo, kissing the top of Dick's head as he so often did, "Are you still bored?" He asked in a teaseng manner.

The response was nothing less than he expected.

"...Shut up."

* * *

After the two of them (but mostly Wally) finished cleaning up from their fun in the shower, they dried off and threw on their pyjamas, ignoring the fact that it was barely one o'clock in the afternoon. Instead of doing anything productive they chose to simply veg it out on the couch for awhile and watch bad TV; bad as in "court room drama show" bad, _not_ "Keeping Up With The Kardashians bad," they weren't completely pathetic.

At some point between the _Judge Judy_ and _Hot Bench_ marathons, Dick ended up falling asleep again. He wasn't sure how, considering how loud some of the fuckers on those shows could get, but since the younger man was still feeling pretty sick he didn't question it. Instead, the speedster carefully scooped his fiancé up into his arms and brought him to bed, lovingly tucking him in even though the brunette would no doubt have protested the treatment were he awake.

Since they were running low on foods and medications that they needed, Wally pulled on a sweater and some boots, pressed a handwritten note into Dick's shirt pocket, and gave him a brief kiss. Then, he ventured out of the apartment and to his car. He rarely needed to use it, but it was something he and his father had built together in their spare time during the summers when he was in high school. As Rudy had shown less interest in parenting than he had drinking since Leanne passed away, the redhead opted not to sell it but instead practice his mechanical abilities on it.

Plus it came in handy for doing things when he couldn't use his speed without drawing too much attention. The car was a 1955 Porsche 550 Spyder, a replica of the one James Dean had gotten himself killed in. Because his car was a _girl_ (no matter what anyone said), he called it the "Little Bitch," after Dean's "Little Bastard." Of course he'd made a few alterations over the years so it was much cooler now.

Even Dick, after growing up around all of Bruce Wayne's endless collection of fast sports cars and flashy luxury vehicles, had to admit that it was a pretty badass ride to own. Especially since they'd built it practically from scratch. Everyone had been envious when he'd driven it to school his senior year. Quickly getting bored of the silence, he flicked on the radio, and was immediately greeted by the slow, boring voice of Halsey with her song "New Americana," talk about shitty music.

 _"Young James Dean, some say he looks just like his father, but he could never love somebody's daughter. Football team, loved more than just the game, so he vowed to be his husband at the altar..."_

Pffft. What were the odds?

He flipped the radio back off and rode the rest of the way in silence.

Once arriving at the store he picked up the basic necessities—milk, butter, bread, cheese, all of that jazz. He also went to the organic health food market and bought some things he knew could be used in dishes and drinks to help sick people: oranges, lemons, limes, grapefruit, tomatoes, etc.

After that he spent about half an hour or more at the pharmacy trying to decide what medicine to get for Dick (Tylenol or Advil? Liquid cold medicine or tablets? Should he get a new thermometer or would that one mysteriously go "missing" as well?), in the end he decided to just say _fuck it_ and buy a cornucopia of stuff; antihistamines, cough suppressants, over-the-counter antibiotics (Dick could tell him which ones wouldn't bug his allergies), eye drops, fever reducers, pain killers, nasal and chest decongestants, day and nighttime flu formulas, vitamin supplements, mouthwashes, lip balm, Melatonin, a bunch of teas that supposedly soothed the throat (though he wasn't sure the caffeine or sugar helped), VapoRub, throat lozenges, tissues, etc. He even grabbed a cool high-tech thermometer and a humidifier and dehumidifier.

In total he spent somewhere around six hundred bucks if you included all the food. Was that going overboard? Probably, but Wally didn't care. He had money saved up from various summer jobs, not to mention birthday and Christmas cash he never really spent. He was going to make damn sure his fiancé got healthy again, and he wouldn't use the shiny black credit card Bruce had given him to do it.

Yeah, Dick would probably blow a gasket if he knew, but when the Batman first fired Robin (long story; the short version was that Joker shot Rob and Bats' handled it like a massive tool), and he had become Nightwing to make his own mark, things hadn't initially gone well. Economy was shit in Blüdhaven and he'd quickly used up whatever his parents had left him. Wally had figured out he was in a bind and had dropped everything immediately, he'd decided to move in as a roommate to help take a bit of the strain off, since the kid refused to take handouts or even loans from anybody.

Well, being best friends and exes in the same living quarters got interesting real fast, and he and Dick had found themselves going from "roommates" to "friends with benefits" to just "benefits." Oh, sure, they'd been on and off a few times in those three years and at one point it seemed like there was no hope for them, but they'd taken the risk and gotten back together for the fiftieth or so time. One last chance, they had both bluffed, knowing it would never really be over for good. Six months later, Wally had popped the question. By accident. In the middle of kinky sex. Yeah...

That was about two years ago, and they had been going strong ever since. But living on your own was expensive when they were both in post-secondary school and working as vigilantes at night. Somehow Alfred got wind of this and started "loaning" them money. It was "loaning" because the old man made it clear if they ever tried to bring up repayment he would hit them both with the big wooden spoon hanging in the manor's kitchen.

Eventually, long after Bruce and Dick finally pulled their heads out of their asses, someone let it slip about the financial problems they'd been having, and Alfred's generosity (he suspected it was Tim). The big guy had pulled Wally aside during some disastrous meal—that was before they'd officially announced the engagement, and slipped him the thin black rectangular piece of plastic. He never spoke, but the expression said it all: _You'd better take good care of my little boy._

The week after that their asshole slum lord magically had a change of heart about cutting them loose from their rental agreement early. They moved into a slightly bigger two-bedroom apartment. It was in a better complex (and safer neighborhood in general), and they also had visitors semi-frequently. Damian had stayed once after a falling out with his father and they had offered him a place to spend a few nights if he ever needed to clear his head. Tim dropped by occasionally when business with W.E. and the Teen Titans (who were basically the sequel to the Young Justice team) was getting to be too much.

Even Jason had popped by a couple of times. Granted, one time was to threaten to cut off Wally's man parts if he ever hurt his brother and the other time was when he'd been shot in back multiple times and needed help, but still... his future in laws really weren't so bad (he especially liked Cass, Babs, Kate, Bette and Steph—it was nice having women around who wouldn't take any shit from their male counterparts just because they were attractive). They were crazy as fuck, but he liked to look on the bright side of things.

Though, Bruce still wasn't too fond of him... That was probably mostly Wally's fault. How would _you_ react to finding out, on your adoptive kid's sixteenth birthday, that he'd lost his virginity when he was just thirteen to a guy more than two years older? Oh well. At least their announcement about being engaged showed them all they were honestly serious about their feelings for each other.

Speaking of which, he currently had a fiancé at home feeling like crap, whom he was eager to get back to.

Except there was one teeny tiny little problem...

* * *

"Honey, I'm hoooooome!"

Wally grinned to himself as he kicked the door shut with the heel of his boot after fetching the final bag of what would soon be their new personal apothecary. "I think I got something—err, well, _several_ somethings, that might make you feel better!" The speedster headed to the bedroom, his arms full of stuff. "Do you prefer spraying Otrivin or Neo-Synephrine up your nose? Also, while we're on the topic of noses, I got two different tissues—there's the Kleenex with Vicks lotion in it, or the one with Vitamin E and Aloe Vera. Which do you...Dick?"

The sight of an empty bed filled Wally with apprehension, and admittedly he probably would have gone to check if Nightwing's suit was still in its proper place if a strained whimper hadn't caught his attention. He set his bags down on the floor and investigated, heart stuttering in concern when he found his fiancé curled up on the bathroom floor, shivering. "Dick!"

He quickly knelt down beside the brunette and took his face in his hands, and the heat radiating from his skin was immediately noticeable, "Baby, you're burning up." He murmured as the brunette continued to shake with the chills he was experiencing, no doubt due to the fever currently making its way through his body. The foul odor immediately told him that, most likely, Dick had needed to throw up and by the time he was finished doing so he felt too weak to get up and go back to bed. Had he fallen asleep on the floor?

"...I don't feel good..." The former Boy Wonder slurred as Wally scooped him up and carefully stood, cradling his partner in his arms as he walked back to their room, laying him down on the soft sheets. The speedster stroked his hair and assured him he'd make him feel better, returning to the bathroom to get a washcloth dipped in nice cool water, using it to dab the sweat off of his face before laying it across his forehead.

Next, the redhead grabbed a fresh bottle of water from the fridge and popped open a bottle of ibuprofen, making Dick swallow down two of the little tablets (after carefully reading all of the print on the package and the warning paper inside of it), managing to coax him by promising it would make him feel a lot better. Which, it would, hopefully. At the very least he wouldn't feel like he was roasting alive anymore.

Sitting down next to his betrothed, Wally, briefly held Dick's hand, smiling in a worried way, "You're going to be okay, Babe, I promise. We've got plenty of supplies now so I'm not leaving you again until you're feeling one hundred percent better." He murmured, and the acrobat gave a soft snore in response.

Typical.

Ah well, sleeping was probably the best thing for him at the moment.

Wally got up and put away his purchases, looking into what he could make his lover to eat that wouldn't be too difficult to keep down. Maybe he could call and ask Alfred? That man was a Godsend when it came to food, and pretty much everything else too. Although, word would likely get around to the rest of Wayne Manor's residents if he did that, and the last thing he wanted was Bruce or Damian (the protective little demon he was) forcing him to take Dick to Gotham because they didn't think he was capable of handling the situation.

Of course, the older male would do that if it was in Dick's best interest, but he seemed to be doing a pretty good job so far. Hopefully it stayed that way. Taking care of him would be a trial run for when they were actually married. Unlike the brunette, Wally wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to be a crimefighter for the rest of his life. People like Nightwing thrived off of rescuing others.

As selfish as it was, he could see himself quitting the life just to live happily ever after with Dick. They'd earned, hadn't they? It was something to think about... Marriage, children, a nine-to-five career. That was the dream for him, although the reality was likely him taking over as the Flash, at least until Bart was old enough to do it. Still, the future was looking bright.

The sudden sound of a hacking cough made up Wally's mind on what to get his partner for supper. Hot chicken noodle soup was awesome when you felt sick, doubly so if your throat felt like you'd been swallowing stake knives for the past few days. However, maybe giving him something like that when he was feverish wasn't so smart.

Instead, he'd utilize the fresh fruit he'd bought and make a nice, cold, healthy smoothie. He was sure Dick would enjoy it, since it would require minimal effort on his part to eat—he'd just give him a straw so he wouldn't even need to sit up! It was perfect.

 _Hang in there, Rob, I'll get you healthy yet._

* * *

 **So... I'm thinking of having this story turn into an Mpreg one, or at the very least writing a story after this one, possibly a sequel, that involves that. Your thoughts? I won't do it if the idea bothers you, since I never had Mpreg as an initial warning and it wouldn't be fair to the few followers I have to change it two chapters in.** **Be sure to let me know what you think of that, anyways!**

 **I** **f I did write one it would probably be the result of magic being used as a punishment by their enemies or just some freaky biological miracle.**


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